First Kisses
by displacedtexan
Summary: Naoki never thought that he would learn something while tutoring Kotoko.


A/N1: I wrote this little episode and then later decided that it didn't fit in the story I was creating at the time. I had been holding onto it, hoping to come up with a story later, but I've decided to put it out as a one-shot. From a certain angle, it _could_ serve as a prologue to 'Deception.'

AN2: Oh, yes, and I do not own Itakiss.

* * *

She was singing.

Well, not full-throated singing, more like a half-assed attempt at harmonizing to some unheard melody, but from what he could tell it was some of that damn interchangeable idol pop music. Nothing decent like opera or classic rock.

"Stop that," he ordered quietly.

She ignored him.

Of all the nerve! Here he was, helping her study out of the goodness of his heart.

_Oh quit lying, Naoki, _his conscience ordered him. _You're only doing this to get that detestable baby picture back. _

_Yes,_ he argued back, _but do I have to endure cruel and unusual punishment as well?_

He raised his voice a little higher. "I _said_, stop singing."

Still to no avail.

In anger, he stared at her mouth, opening and closing as they produced what must have seemed melodic in the baka's mind. Funny, he never noticed how soft and pliable her lips were, barely tinted pink after the evening's ablutions. As one particular measure had her swaying while she turned a page, he closed the distance to have his own lips determine the true nature of hers.

This was an unusual sensation, one portion of his brain noticed objectively. He had only kissed his parents and his brother (although that was back when he was a toddler, of course) and had avoided for several years the papery cheeks of older great-aunts. It was different when there was a young person of the opposite sex under his mouth.

He suddenly realized that this was a highly inappropriate action and that it had continued way too long. When he lifted his head, Kotoko's eyes were about the size of tennis balls.

Yet she had not quite been struck speechless. She reached under her loose-hanging, freshly washed hair and pulled out an unobtrusive earbud. "Irie-kun?" her voice rose in question, wavering a little.

Now he felt embarrassment. No matter how much of an idiot the girl was, of course she wouldn't ignore him or be singing nonsense out of thin air. He recalled that he had left the room momentarily to retrieve his advanced physics book, figuring he might as well read next month's assignment during the interminable wait for her to complete her trigonometric functions homework; at that time she must have turned on her media player.

Unable to come up with a reasonable explanation for his behavior, he did what many people do when caught in an error: he doubled down. He bent over and began kissing her again and with more enthusiasm, and this time she responded after a moment.

They became lost in this enjoyable pastime and, if not for his well-compartmented brain, might have taken the activity too far. Luckily he pulled away then stood abruptly. "Tutoring is over for the night," he stated huskily. "Finish the rest of the sheet yourself!" Then, picking up his forgotten physics book, he took himself off to his room as if the hounds of hell—or worse, his mother—were chasing him.

* * *

It took Kotoko several hours to fall asleep that night. What had come over Irie-kun to do things like that? She knew he didn't like her and was only assisting her because of blackmail. Was he trying to scare her off?

If so, he had another think coming. That experience was quite educational, to say the least. No boy had ever kissed her; well, except for Shouta-kun in elementary school, but she didn't think that one counted. She knew boys didn't have to be emotionally involved to do things like that, else they wouldn't talk about it all the time afterwards. Anyone who respected the person they kissed or did more (she raised her hands to heated cheeks) wouldn't tell everyone. Since she was absolutely sure that Irie-kun didn't like her, she anticipated a lot of embarrassment the next morning.

* * *

Surprisingly, all Naoki did at breakfast was ask for her assignment. After swiftly marking through half the answers, he tossed it back to her with a gruff, "Fix these, baka!"

Yuuki, the little brat, hooted at her ignorance.

* * *

Naoki, after a second shower the previous evening (this one cold), had no trouble finding slumber. He knew that his mind would work subconsciously to figure out the problem, and his dreams were serene. Until he formulated a solution to his uncharacteristic desire to repeat the actions which had abbreviated Kotoko's study session, he would treat her as before. Therefore their walk to the train station was like all the days before: ten meters away in silence.

* * *

By that night, the logical part of Naoki's brain had located some contradictions, and he decided to investigate the matter further. He turned to Kotoko, who was concentrating on her assignment, not looking at him at all, and, mercifully, sans earbuds.

"Kotoko." She jumped. Strange. He hadn't spoken _that _loudly.

She observed him as a mouse might look at a cobra. "Yes, Irie-kun?"

"You say you love me, right?" he asked.

"Um, yes, Irie-kun!" She gave him a half smile then looked down. "But you said you didn't like stupid people, so I'm trying to give up."

"Right," he mused. Yes, he _had_ said that. It had been truthful although perhaps not kind.

"So what you did—what _we_ did—yesterday has kind of confused me." Now that he had broached the subject, all of a sudden the words came pouring out. "Are you maybe a little interested in a sort of stupid person? Because if you are, I'll try to get smarter. I don't know if I can, but you can't beat me for enthusiasm. Why, when I was in middle school—"

He didn't particularly want to find out about her in middle school. Instead of using the method of the previous night, he covered her mouth with his hand. She stared at him above his little finger, and he found that he had to shake his head to recall what he had wanted to ask next. "So, what is it about me that you love?"

"Oh, I like it that you're so tall and handsome! You know, when they were describing you at freshmen opening day and said that you were the top of the class and a genius, I imagined you as this short little tubby guy with a dorky haircut and geeky glasses. Boy, was I ever wrong! My heart began to go pitter-patt—"

His hand returned to her mouth. "So, it's just my looks?"

"No! I admire how you constantly stay at the top of the class. Why, even if I studied like this all through school, I could never do that! I guess people really appreciate those who can do what they can't. I'm doing the best that I can, and I'm still barely making it. Oh, wait, I've already said that, haven't I?" She placed a finger on her chin and tilted her head to look at the ceiling as if to see what she had previously said written up there.

"My looks and my brains. That's really not enough to—"

"And don't forget that you've got a nice body." She waved both hands at him. "And I don't mean that like I want to jump your bones, even though sometimes when I watch you in your tennis shorts, all sweaty from the summer sun, wiping your face with the back of your forearm… Oh, gee, now I've admitted that I have to go to summer school, haven't I?"

"Considering that I know your academic abilities pretty well, guessing that wouldn't be too much of a stretch," he replied. "I'll try to summarize here. You like me for my looks, body and brain." She nodded. "But you don't really know me. So, how can you say that you love me?"

Kotoko blinked at him. "I don't know. It's something I feel here," she pressed a fist to her chest area. And I really haven't had a _chance_ to know you any better, since you're in Class A and I'm in Class F. Maybe it's not love. Maybe it's a baka love. I don't know how to describe it. Except that I _do_ feel something."

He cleared his throat. "Thank you."

"And I really felt it when we did, you know, last night. Woo boy, I had to fan myself to keep from overheating after you left!"

"Um," he stammered, "it did seem a little warm."

She leaned forward. "You felt it too? Right here?" She placed a forefinger on his chest.

Instead of answering, he grabbed her forearm and pulled her fully against him. "I don't recall," he lied. "Let's find out together."


End file.
